Amaranthine
by atheart101
Summary: She'd lose herself in his blue eyes, those eyes that seemed like the ocean to her, a depthless blue with untold secrets and mysteries, sometimes playful and expressive, other times quiet and contemplative. But always, always with a churning emotion when turned on her. His eyes were her favorite. And that's what she missed the most.


This Is How We Live Forever

She grazed the tips of her fingers across the glossy cover, the barest hint of a smile on her lips.

It was all too easy to imagine him sneaking in behind her, folding her into a hug, his teasing voice in her ear whispering with no small amount if glee, "Do you want me to sign this for you?"

He'd pluck it from her hands without waiting for an answer, a pen already in his right hand. "Who shall I make it out to? Detective Beckett? Mrs. Castle? Oo! Detective Castle?" She'd roll her eyes at that one, no longer trying to hide her smile at his antics. "You know, I've always loved the sound of that. Detective Castle. It looks much better on you, by the way." He'd throw it out there, a glance her way, but she'd see it.

The pride and love in his eyes. That all-encompassing, unfailing, still so unexpected love she still didn't believe she deserved. Just one of the many things that made up her husband that she couldn't bear to lose. So, naturally and in their very special way, she'd cover the moment with a quip of her own. "Yeah, well detective never would have fit you anyway, Castle. It would require you to follow the rules too much."

"True." He'd reply with that mock-thinking look. "I still think I see myself more as a P.I."

"See! I knew you were imagining the two of us on that Blue Butterfly case."

He'd send her a rueful grin. "I find a story about a ruggedly handsome, yet directionless man who stumbles across the enchanting woman destined to save him and I'm not supposed to envision the two of us? Come on, Kate. Of course I was. I always imagine you and me."

"Always?" She'd ask, sending him a smile.

He'd walk back over to her then, leaving his book on the desk, still open to his dedication page with its unfinished his autograph. "Always," he'd promise, sliding his arms around her back. She'd follow in suit, lacing her fingers behind his neck. She'd lose herself in his blue eyes, those eyes that seemed like the ocean to her, a depthless blue with untold secrets and mysteries, sometimes playful and expressive, other times quiet and contemplative. But always, always with a churning emotion when turned on her. His eyes were her favorite. And that's what she missed the most.

Letting her fingertips fall from the cover and shaking herself out of her daydream, Kate flipped the cover open and stared at the dedication. After a few moments, she set the book down on his desk, open and waiting for a signature that would never come.

Kate never thought she'd find another day of the year she dreaded more than the day of her mother's murder. But the moment they pulled Castle's scorched body from the wreckage of his car, Kate knew this was something from which she'd never recover.

It took her months before she was able to enter his office. Surprisingly, or perhaps maybe not so surprisingly, she found entwining herself with his family made life without him a little less grim. Her life was still wrought with cloudy skies, threatening with constant rain, but life, his life, lived on in his daughter and his mother. She couldn't help but surround herself with it.

It was the things he touched she couldn't stand to be around. The books on his bedside table, his favorite pen, even his laser tag set. The little pieces of him left behind that fit so securely within her heart. Those were the things she couldn't stand to see. They reminded her more than ever of her new reality. Namely, his office. The biggest piece of him. The one true witness to his genius. Something she never fully admitted to him. She hoped he knew how much she admired his talent of words.

That's why it was so surprising when, one fateful day, she found herself behind that doorway, skimming his bookshelves, tracing her fingers over his favorite titles, quietly laughing at how their books, all the titles that brought them together, we're front and center to anyone who took the time to see it. Silent tears streamed down her face as she eased herself into his chair and slowly opened his laptop. He hadn't shut the computer down before they left on their quest of her divorce and their wedding, so her heart stopped when an unfinished chapter of the last Nikki Heat novel brightened the screen. She touched the screen, aching to feel his words, to hear him speak them aloud the way he used to when they were in bed together enjoying a rare lazy night. On a whim, Kate turned aside and hit the power button on his murder board.

It was all there. The overarching timeline for all the books, the sequence of events for this last one, all the answers spelled out cleanly in an outline so similar to their white board at the precinct. Everything planned out.

All that was missing was its author.

She could almost imagine him leaning against the open doorway, a soft smile on his lips, so in love, so full of confidence, thoroughly enjoying the life they'd never get to have. The one that was stolen from them. Half expecting he was there, Kate glanced at the doorway and was met with the same clench in her heart when she couldn't find his familiar frame.

But maybe that wasn't exactly true. Because he lived on in his family. He lived on in her memories. He lived on in her heart.

He lived on in his words. In Rook.

And through Rook and Heat, they lived on together.

And she knew Castle better than anyone. She knew his voice, his touch, his breath. She knew his mannerisms, his wild theories, his exceptional view of the world. She knew his writing and his heart. She knew these books were his special brand of a love letter to her.

And now she knew how it ended.

She would finish it for him.

Final Heat.

At her decision, a ghost of a kiss on the crown of her head sent a chill coursing through her body. It wasn't real, she knew that. But if anyone could cross the boundaries of time and death to give her encouragement and his blessing, it was Castle.

The book would be published next week. Paula gracefully sent Kate the first copy of the first edition. Along with it came a note with her condolences, something Kate immediately discarded. No, all she wanted to see was the dedication page. It would be the only dedication Richard Castle would ever receive. And for the first time since languishing over what to write, Kate was okay with that. Because this was their book. Their baby. Their love story. And he deserved the ending of a lifetime.

A million lines had flitted through Kate's mind once she had finished the book and scrolled back up to the dedication page. So many things left unsaid, so many things not said enough.

He made the songs make sense.

He was her one and done. Well, intentional one and done.

She would always be his one writer girl.

But eventually all faded away until one word remained.

There would only be a select few who would understand why there was only one italicized word just before the first chapter, but she didn't care. She knew and he knew and that would be enough.

_Always. _


End file.
